


You and Me

by AnotherHomosexualMale



Series: Rare/Weird Couples That Actually Make Sense In My Mind [9]
Category: Big Time Rush (TV), Victorious (TV)
Genre: Boredom, First Time, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27902413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherHomosexualMale/pseuds/AnotherHomosexualMale
Summary: Beck and James meet again.
Relationships: Beck Oliver/James Diamond
Series: Rare/Weird Couples That Actually Make Sense In My Mind [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719358
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> If homophobia hadn't been that strong in the early 2010's, this is the kind of couple that I would have loved to see in a crossover special between Big Time Rush and Victorious. I know that BTR isn't from Dan Schneider, but I don't care.
> 
> In a similar note, if either James Diamond or Beck Oliver, or any other confident male character in a kid's TV show had been gay or bisexual, the amount of confident gay men out of the closet today would be staggering. Fuck yes, I'm right.

_“You’re so hot!”_ A girl yells from the crowd just as the song is fading through the speakers, wavering a little as it does. Their dancing routine is now done, and they get to sing the acoustic version before the concert ends.

Kendall gives a breathy laugh and scratches the back of his sweaty neck. “Uh, thanks!” he says, and his amplified voice is followed by hundreds of laughs and screams. “I’m sure you are too, whoever that came from!”

Another small ripple of laughter passes through the crowd sweating it out, shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip, on the ripped up and muddy grass. And it’s strange because it wasn’t even that funny but, maybe, it’s like when you meet up for lunch with someone you’re irrevocably attracted to; you’re there for them, they’re the only reason you got out of bed this morning.

That’s just how smitten teenage girls are with Big Time Rush.

“So, uh…” Kendall is saying as he bends to pick up his bottle of water from beside the mic stand, “this next song --” he takes a sip. The temperature hit 100° a couple of hours back, and is still climbing. “This next song… The first version of this song was actually written by James years ago.”

The crowd screams, and the taller boy looks up from where he’d been adjusting his own mic.

Kendall chuckles. “But he’d hidden it. I found it in a drawer while looking for printer paper. And he took some convincing to let us play it.” Kendall winks at him and James tries to smile. The crowd laughs. “Haven’t worked out who it’s about yet… or even if it’s about anybody in particular. But… well, we’ll get it out of him eventually.”

“You need to learn to mind your own business, Kendall,” says James, leaning forward into his own mic and the crowd laughs again.

Kendall grins. “So, yeah, this is a new one and it’s called --” he takes one last sip before putting the water back on the floor and straightening his guitar on its strap over his shoulder. “It’s called _‘You and Me_.’”

Just like that, Logan starts singing, followed by Carlos, and the air is suddenly filled with vibrations; a building guitar that everyone knows will have to break eventually and release the song held within.

* * *

Beck Oliver, two thirds back, instantly knows this was a mistake. He never should have come here. Not to this festival, and definitely not to this particular concert.

But Tori’s favorite band is back in L.A. to record an album, and they’re only playing this one gig before they jet off across the country again. What kind of friend would he be if he didn’t go with her? It had nothing to do with Big Time Rush. Nothing to do with James Diamond. And if Beck had maybe suggested they check them out while they waited for the next performance, when he heard _‘Music Sounds Better’_ blasting out of their arena, then it was pure coincidence.

Lies. All lies. Because he knew Big Time Rush were going to be playing here. He knew _‘Music Sounds Better'_ was one of their biggest hits. He knew James would be there, on that stage in his skinny jeans despite the heat, his black shirt clinging to his skin, and sweaty forehead glinting in the sun. And he knew that no amount of lies would ever erase the images of shiny brown hair fanned out over his pillow, and sweet coffees under the morning sun.

Because the truth was, he’d just wanted to see him, just see him in the flesh one more time. And Beck knew that, too.

It’s too late for regret now, though, because he’s already here. Tori’s bobbing along beside him to the beat, one of those clear plastic wineskins looped around her neck only, unlike most present girl’s, hers is actually full of water.

“These guys are pretty good,” She says, and Beck can only grimace out a smile because Tori doesn’t know.

Tori can’t know about that summer, because she was doing an internship at Spin City Records with Andre and Cat when Beck overheard some people he knew from class talking about a trip to San Francisco, packed his bags and went with them. Because Robbie was busy with theater classes, and Jade was off at some film program for young directors, and his parents were fighting again, and he’d just needed to get out of there for a while. So, he left with some almost-friends to San Francisco where, coincidentally, Big Time Rush’s tour had also recently moved in.

And then he met James.

And then he left.

It’s all too late now. One fantastical dream. Because there is Beck, up to his ankles in mud-- and then there is James, highlighted in blue stage lights, lip between his teeth in concentration, as 20,000 people scream his name.

And then, the song hits the pre-chorus, and Beck’s world tilts on its axis.

_"I remember when we swapped names_

_And I thought maybe_

_You’d stay, and try and help me_

_And our lives would have changed forever,_

_But I was wrong..."_

* * *

All he can see is James’ smile that night they met in that preppy club that his almost-friends had dragged him to. The one that had been in the same street his hotel had been. The one with the pretty stranger who gasped in horror when Beck tripped and spilled his drink all over his leather jacket, “This is a _Fabbergiorno_ leather jacket, dude!”

And Beck had apologized, and then the stranger kept screaming at him, and then they both accidentally pushed a blonde girl onto the bar while arguing, and then they were both kicked out of the club, because that blonde girl had been Kesha.

“Wait! I’m James Diamond, you can’t do this! Whoa- I’m in a band! I can do it myself, thank you very much!” The burly guard scoffed at them, and then, the guy, James, pulled Beck aside to whisper, as a few paparazzi were approaching the scene, clearly recognizing the taller guy. “This is all your fault! And now, Kesha hates me!”

Beck, trying to regain some of his coolness, had countered, “My fault? It was an accident! I apologized, and then you kept screaming.” and James had just given him a look that said, _‘well… yeah._ ’

Beck grabbed him by the shoulder, and pulled him towards the crowd. “C’mon man, you need to hide…” He heard James resigned complaint as they both scurried away, trying to lose the photographers behind them. “Apparently, you are a celebrity or something.”

“Well, duh!”

It had been that night when everything had started, two strangers hiding under the neon lights of San Francisco. And Beck knew that he would never forget it.

* * *

“Holy-…” he whispers.

“What was that?” Tori shouts over James’ voice, leaning a little but still in time to Logan’s turn.

_"I couldn’t care less it if they talk,"_

Kendall’s voice tumbles out over the crowd like a wave, it’s edge has screams in the air along with a few tears.

_"I couldn’t care less if they try and get to us,_

_‘Cause I’d rather go blind_

_Than letting you down."_

* * *

James is in Beck’s bed in the hotel with the 3 a.m. air pouring in the open window with the traffic noise and the moon to caress his naked body as they both lay there and stared at the ceiling. It’d only been a week since they met, when Beck had dragged James away from the paparazzi, walked alongside him through the busy streets, and then invited him to his hotel room to wait while his friends came out of the building. The conversation went from the club situation to James’ band; from Beck’s lonely life, to his upcoming college experience; from girls, to boys, and three hours of conversation later, James had kissed him.

Days in San Francisco seemed to melt into one another when they were just a mess of James and Beck, Beck and James, both boys hidden in Beck’s hotel room. It might have been years or decades for all they cared.

They had kissed, and Beck had noticed how nervous James was, and he wondered if this was his first time kissing another boy, if James’ preppy attitude was just a cover for something else.

They jerked each other off the third day after they met. James had told his friends that he was going bandana shopping, and of course, no one had wanted to go with him. Twenty minutes later, he appeared, trembling with excitement in front of Beck’s door. Sunglasses and a blonde wig as his disguise.

Five days after meeting, one of Beck’s hands was in James’ sweaty hair, slowly running through, teasing the knots out with his fingers, and one of James’ was on Beck’s calf, thumb rubbing back and forth listlessly.

“What am I doing?” James said softly, voice still half-broken.

“Hmmm?” Beck replied.

“Do you think I’m just wasting my time?”

Beck frowned. “With me?”

James moved then, rolling over so he could crawl up the bed and settle properly against Beck’s side. He put one hand on his jaw and tilted his head down to face him. “No, not with you. Never with you.”

Beck sighed and placed a kiss against James’ forehead.

“I just feel,” said James, pressing his nose against Beck’s chest, “Like… what’s the point? I don’t want to be sixty and still going to clubs, like Madonna does. I just want to be recognized. I don’t want to keep pretending, and still insisting I’m gonna be the next big thing. I don’t want to be that old guy still in the closet that marries five actresses, and divorces all of them, you know? The one who missed the train. So, maybe… I should just go back to Minnesota, and go back to college. I- I wanna have a boyfriend, you know? something normal. Something safe…”

Beck slid his hand back into James’ hair, massaging his scalp and feeling the silky strands on the sensitive skin between his fingers as it slid through. He didn’t really have an answer for that.

“What do you want, James?” he said eventually.

“I just s--”

“No, right now. What do you want right now? Music? College? Something safe? Because if you pick something you don’t want, you’ll still end up miserable. You won’t even get a chance to miss the train ‘cause you’ll already be on the wrong one.”

“I want,” said James, “I… I just want to sing, and dance… But- but I also want to have a boyfriend, and-” His eyes started to fill with tears. “I know that becoming famous while having a boyfriend isn’t something that the producers would love…”

“I don’t want you to hide... But I understand if you are comfortable by being discreet. You shouldn’t need to feel pressured into doing anything you don’t like.”

James hid his smile in Beck’s chest.

“I’ll learn karate and protect you from the paps.” He cupped James’ face in his hands and extricated it from his chest to look him in the eye. “In all seriousness, I have every faith in you. You can do this. If this is what you want, you’re going to get there. I know it. Because no one’s more of a stubborn ass than you.”

And James had smiled as he kissed him.

* * *

“Holy f-,” says Beck again, his eyes wide, and then his feet are moving against his will, starting forward towards the stage.

“Beck?” says Tori, but Beck is already pushing through the crowd.

The music is building. This is a really bad idea, but Beck isn’t thinking. He can’t stop walking. He’s ignoring the dirty looks and shoves and curses of the people he pushes passed. He’s ignoring the knowledge that this is really a conversation better left for private. All he can see is James -- in that club where they met, seconds before Beck ruined his jacket; asleep in his hotel bed late at night when the frown finally melts off his face; in a café at the docks, sitting in front of him, trying to eat a muffin through his fake moustache while Beck’s normally cool face bursts into laughs-- on that stage right in front of him, head down, bobbing to the beat, lost to the music and fucking glowing in the afternoon sun.

Because this song is about Beck.

_"And if you wanna smile, and tell me to be myself"_

It’s about Beck.

_"And be my only one"_

He wrote a song about Beck.

_"Baby, It’s You and Me."_

The same guy who didn’t blink an eye when Beck said he had to go back to L.A.--

_"And if you wanna feel my heartbeat"_

The same guy who ignored Beck’s text messages for months, and then quietly blocked him--

_"To help you get away with more, then rest on me."_

That guy wrote a freaking song about Beck.

_"Baby, It’s You and Me."_

Beck is at the fence now and he can see a burly security guard hastening his way. It’s a race between the security guard and Beck to get over that fence and up onto that stage. James’ voice has dropped out of the backing vocals of the final chorus because Beck is halfway over the fence and unmissable. The bass drops out too, and Kendall opens his eyes to send a confused look back at Logan, only to find James standing there like someone’s just slapped him. Someone is about to slap him, because Beck has his hands on the stage. The security guard isn’t going to make it. Carlos is still desperately forcing out the guitar riff and the sweat is running down Logan’s face in streams as he belts out the last few beats and then -- James’ voice, cracked and confused, captured by his mic and broadcast out over the crowd.

“Beck?”

And Beck’s rage careens to a stop just as he does, right in front of the singer. Tori is probably losing her mind back there. What was he even planning to say?

What if he was wrong and it was never about him at all?

The song ends. It’s silent except for that warbling guitar as it dies away.

“I didn’t,” says James in the silence. It echoes out the speakers, and he scrunches up his face for a second, glances over Beck’s shoulder, and pushes the mic stand over so static echoes out instead. “I didn’t think you’d…” he tries again with only marginally more success.

“Yeah,” says Beck. He can feel Kendall’s eyes on him, which is stupid because there must be more than 20,000 pairs of eyes on him right now. “Am I right?” he blurts out finally.

James looks at him for a long moment, familiar frown on his face.

“Yeah,” he sighs at last and he didn't even have to ask. James’ always got him. It was Beck who could never understand James. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“It’s an old song,” says Beck in his usual cool tone, and yet, his knees feel like they could fail him at any moment.

“I wanted it for myself,” James replies, throat audibly tight.

Beck laughs. “Even though it’s about not caring about what other people think?”

And James finally loosens a little. A fragile smile slips onto his face and he shrugs. “Eh… Do what I say, not what I do.”

“And now?”

James tenses right back up again. He looks to Kendall who’s looking awkwardly between them and the crowd. He looks to Logan who’s fiddling with his mic. He looks to Carlos who’s started picking a little melody out on his guitar in a futile attempt to distract everyone. Finally, he looks to Beck and swallows.

“I… mean… I-… Beck, what do you think?”

“I know what I’d like. But it’s an old song -- or, at least, you wrote it years ago. You might have felt differently then.”

“It’s _yours_.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean: the song, this stage, all of it. It’s yours because I… wouldn’t… Forget music, I’m not entirely sure I’d still be alive if I hadn’t met you."

Carlos is definitely blushing at this point, and he stumbles a little in his improvised riff.

Beck smiles, though. He’s almost forgotten there is anyone behind him at all.

“Does that- Does that mean I get a kiss?” he says with a weak smirk.

James says something then, he feels the words leave his mouth, but he doesn’t know what it is. He’s too busy trying to close the gap between them and prove to himself that Beck is real, flesh and blood beneath his hands. As they reach each other, their lips crush almost painfully, and Beck can hear James whimper before his sweaty fingers can run through his long hair almost in desperation.

In the distance, somewhere far away, he can hear the crowd finally start to cheer.

**Author's Note:**

> Quarantine made me do it.


End file.
